The Darkness that Climbs Trees
by The REAL Reveur
Summary: Here is a wonderful actionadventure story that involves NO romance whatsoever! I love dragging the Fellowship into the deep places of the earth......
1. Prologue

*Oooh, a prologue. Disclaimer and things in next chapter. But just to be safe. Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
  
  
Prologue:  
  
Darkness. Only a shadow, but still darkness. It crept through the brush, blending in with everything and anything. Shadows make no sound, and this one was no exception. Not even a blade of grass swayed in the movement the shadow creature made. Suddenly, noise.  
  
The shadow abruptly stopped and melted into the trees. A figure walked by, chatting loudly with someone unseen. The shadow hissed softly, its sound moving with the breeze. It scurried up the tree and waited.  
  
Prologue Part 2:  
  
It was always traveling. Nothing else for weeks on end. The Fellowship had set out from Rivendell what seemed months ago, but had only been a matter of days. The Ring safe in their keeping, they headed out into the wilderness to run towards evil's lair. But one quiet, not-so-special day a surprise was in store for them. The evil that they were trying so hard to find was silently eluding them, but only until that quiet, not-so-special day happened... 


	2. Goblins

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, any Lord of the Rings characters/settings don't belong to me but to the great Tolkien who is a genius. Only the characters that I made up are mine.  
  
*Sorry if some things don't make sense. I followed no chronological order, and if I got any locations wrong, please let me know! I try not to favor any one character, so if you're in it for Legolas bashing too bad! I only do it in the minor. I despise slash and have nightmares every time I read one (no offense to you slash writers out there). This is just a fun little story/thing that I wanted to write only for two purposes: to have fun, and to entertain all you peoples out there! So, read read read!  
  
  
  
Chapter 1: Goblins  
  
Legolas walked silently through the forest, deep in thought as he scouted ahead. A twig cracked. He paused, then leapt into a tree. He waited. After a minute, Legolas could see Aragorn walking, obviously searching for something. Or someone. He smiled. As if sensing him, Aragorn looked up into the trees. He motioned for the Elf to join him. Legolas leapt from the tree and landed on the ground with ease. "What is it?" he asked quietly.  
  
"I do not know," Aragorn replied. "Something is amiss."  
  
Legolas looked around, his sharp eyes taking in his surroundings. He shuddered suddenly as if a gust of wind blew by. "Let's get back to camp," he said. Aragorn nodded and the pair set off.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Frodo watched as Aragorn and Legolas entered camp. As usual, the Ranger's face gave no hint of what he was thinking, but Legolas' eyes betrayed the fact that something was wrong. He also shivered violently at times, though there was no wind. Merry and Pippin were fast asleep by the fire, mumbling incoherently in their sleep. Boromir was sharpening his sword as he listened to Gandalf talk, casually carrying on conversation. Gimli was staring at Legolas warily, for the dwarf knew that he was hiding something.  
  
"Frodo?" Sam whispered.  
  
Frodo turned to his friend. "What is it, Sam?" he asked.  
  
"Do you get the feeling something's going to happen, or is happening now?" Sam said, glancing around.  
  
"Why do you ask?"  
  
"Well, Aragorn seems more tense than he usually does, and Legolas looks sick. Gandalf has even been jumpy. I think something's wrong," Sam whispered, staring up at the night sky.  
  
Frodo bit his lip. Now that Sam had mentioned it, he could feel something strange in the air. The forest was still and silent. No nightsounds were uttered from the surrounding foliage.  
  
"You know what, Sam?" Frodo said quietly, afraid to break the silence. "I think you're right."  
  
At that point, a terrible, screeching wail echoed around them. Aragorn was standing, his hand on his sword hilt with Legolas beside him. Legolas had fitted an arrow in his bow, but held it loosely. Boromir was also up and looking warily towards the forest. Gimli had his axe in hand and was growling softly to himself. Gandalf had roused the hobbits and was talking quietly with Aragorn. Another croak vibrated through the air. A strong gust of wind tore through the trees, shaking the leaves. Legolas jumped into a tree. Frodo could hear him whispering frantically in Elvish. Then he leapt over to another tree, chanting the same thing over again. Soon the Elf was out of sight. "What's he doing?" Frodo whispered to Gandalf.  
  
"He's talking with the trees, trying to find out if any of them know what sort of creature we're dealing with," Gandalf said. He gave Frodo a reassuring pat. "Don't worry. It sounds too far away to reach us tonight," he added, seeing the look on the hobbit's face. "If you'd like, you can go back to sleep." Frodo agreed. He settled back down and slowly drifted into a dreamless sleep.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Pippin looked at the starry night sky. There were no clouds, and the stars were twinkling at him brightly. Frodo had gone back to bed, and Merry and Sam soon followed. But Peregrin Took could not find sleep. The moans and screeches of the unknown creature had not yet faded, and fear still reigned in the hobbit's mind. Even the reassuring of Gandalf and Aragorn had not put him at ease. And Legolas had not yet returned from the trees.  
  
Gimli was snoring. Quite loudly, for that matter. Boromir was having a rather intimate discussion with Aragorn. Gandalf was standing watch. Pippin sighed and turned over. The next thing he knew he was opening his eyes. He blinked several times before realizing that he had dozed off. But what had woken him? For when hobbits sleep, it is sometimes very hard to get them up and moving.  
  
Hushed voices met his ears, and Pippin slowly turned toward them. Legolas was sitting by the fire with Gandalf and Aragorn. Pippin saw Aragorn kneeling next to him. He was pulling an arrow out of Legolas' left forearm. It looked to be pretty deep and painful. They were speaking quietly, but Pippin's ears were sharp and could hear. ".lucky, Legolas," Aragorn admonished sternly.  
  
"I should've seen it," Legolas said, his eyes closed.  
  
"Not even an Elf can dodge all the arrows in the world," Gandalf commented. "Aragorn is right. You are lucky. But why are the goblins here in the first place? They rarely stray this far from the Misty Mountains." There was no reply to that.  
  
"Did the trees tell you anything?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"Yes.and no. It was difficult to understand what they said. It felt as if great losses hung over them, and more were threatening to fall. There was something about a baelshre poisoning the soil with the Heart of Darkness. Then.ahhh!"  
  
Aragorn yanked the arrow from Legolas' arm. He inspected the wound, and took out some athelas. He rubbed the flower over and around the wound, then sprinkling some of it inside it. A white cloth he wrapped around the gaping hole, blood swiftly turning its purity red. "There," Aragorn exclaimed. "It should be healed by tomorrow night. But remember; all the athelas in the world cannot heal the wound in which the arrow does not miss its mark."  
  
Legolas nodded. He gingerly rotated his shoulder. Pippin could see the weariness etched on Aragorn's face. When others weren't watching, the mask of the fearless Ranger dropped into the dust.  
  
"The trees also spoke of the goblins," Legolas continued, a slight quiver in his voice. "The goblins have been moving through Dagorlad and the Brown Lands towards the Iron Hills. I don't know why. It's too close to Mordor and Mirkwood for my liking."  
  
Gandalf stirred. "They are gathering. Or, relocating. But why? Goblins have dwelled in the Misty Mountains for thousands of years. Why would they feel the urge to move to the Iron Hills and crowd their cousins?" he mused.  
  
Pippin shut his eyes, trying to imagine the Iron Hills. Then, something tickled his nose. Pippin sneezed. All three jumped. Aragorn looked at Pippin. "Wasn't me," Pippin said quickly. He pointed at Merry.  
  
Aragorn laughed. "My dear Took," he began, but a shrill screech ripped through the air. Little snickers, giggles, and mumblings rippled along the wind. "That wasn't a baelshre," Aragorn murmured.  
  
There was a crunching noise. The ground shook slightly. Quickly, the fire was put out and packs were thrown into the trees. In turn, each of the Fellowship climbed high into a tree. Pippin watched the ground. Silence had taken the forest again, but everything was not right. A quiet rumbling took up again. Then, they came.  
  
Goblins burst between the trees, running and pounding through the forest. They were taller than dwarves, but not by much. Their skin was pitch black, or some pale grey and muddled browns. Their arms were long and gangly, groping fingers writhing on their hands, but their legs were lean and powerful. Most of the goblins carried quivers of arrows and bows, but swords and daggers were seen and heard clattering.  
  
Pippin watched in amazement and horror as the goblins passed below them. Legolas was climbing higher in the tree, groping for a better lookout perch. As Pippin watched him, the Elf slipped. He would've fallen into the waving masses of goblins and been trampled if the tree hadn't wrapped its boughs around him tightly. He was carried over to a good perch. As the tree released him, Legolas whispered his thanks and gratitude.  
  
As soon as the goblins were out of sight and hearing, the Fellowship slowly climbed down the trees. "Okay," Pippin said, clinging desperately to a branch, "what's really going on?" He promptly crashed to the ground.  
  
Aragorn helped the hobbit up. "I think that you know," he said as he caught Merry, who jumped from the tree.  
  
"Well, partially," Pippin admitted. "But I don't understand much of it."  
  
Just then, Legolas dropped back into camp. "We have to leave now," he said, gazing at Aragorn. The Ranger met his gaze and saw something in his eyes. Then he nodded. He grabbed a pack from the ground and slung it over his shoulder, gesturing to everyone to follow.  
  
  
  
*please review! I'll love you forever! 


	3. Baelshre & Pipeweed

Disclaimer: see chapter 1  
  
Chapter 2: Baelshre and Pipeweed  
  
Gimli watched the Elf cautiously. He knew something was up, even though Legolas had said nothing to him about anything.  
  
They had just left the forest and were camping by a river. The hobbits were all by the riverside, laughing and talking as they enjoyed the lack of excitement. Gandalf was not far off from them, peacefully smoking his pipe, but watching carefully, knowing what kinds of trouble hobbits are capable to get into. Aragorn and Boromir were out hunting for something, so that left Gimli and Legolas. The Elf was calmly sitting with his back against a tree, his eyes closed as he was in deep thought. Gimli grunted, and shook his head. He continued to stare at him until he couldn't stand it.  
  
Just when Gimli was about to practically burst, a wail filled the air. Legolas' eyes flew open. He looked at Gimli. "Baelshre," he whispered.  
  
Gimli was shocked. He was mortified. "A baelshre?" he bellowed. "What in the Valar's name is a baelshre doing here? They live in caves, deep caves, not woods!"  
  
Legolas hushed him. "Does Gandalf know?" Gimli whispered.  
  
Legolas nodded. "And Aragorn. I suspect Boromir will know by the time he gets back, but the hobbits." he trailed off, as the wailing and screeching continued. The pair quickly made their way to the river.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Gandalf sat silently, chuckling occasionally as the hobbits splashed each other. Then he sat up straight, pipe forgotten in his hand, intent and listening to the quiet sounds of the forest. There was a crashing in the woods. He turned and found Legolas and Gimli there. Both looked worried. "Baelshre," Legolas said.  
  
"Close?" Gandalf asked calmly. Legolas nodded. "Where are Aragorn and Boromir?"  
  
"Out hunting," Gimli answered. "There has been no sign of them since they left."  
  
By the water, the hobbits had noticed the sudden change in Gandalf's mood. Frodo stood up. "Gandalf," he called. "What's going on?"  
  
A wail floated through the air. Then silence.  
  
Legolas drew an arrow. Gimli armed himself with his axe and Gandalf took his staff in hand. The hobbits drew their swords. There was a roar, then something knocked into Legolas. The Elf slammed into Gandalf, grimacing as the wizard's staff whacked him on the head. Stars danced in front of his eyes. Something swam in front of im. Legolas stood up shakily, firing a loose arrow. Another roar broke through the air. It was a baelshre. Its hide was dark green, mottled with black. Slime coated its body. Two pale yellow eyes stared out at the group, darting back and forth anxiously. A long, slimy tail trailed behind the baelshre. It was thin and acted like a whip. Three white horns curled out of the baelshre's head, thick and sharp. It snorted and charged.  
  
Gimli whacked it hard with his axe, drawing a huge gash that oozed yellow. The baelshre hissed, but charged the hobbits. They valiantly chopped at the creature, warding it off but the tail whipped at them. It caught Sam and sent him sailing into the river. "Help!" he shouted, floundering. "I can't swim! HELP!" he sank beneath the surface.  
  
Legolas threw his bow and quiver to the ground, trusting Gimli and Gandalf could finish the baelshre. He ran towards the river and dived in. Cold hit him, and hit him hard. Legolas forced his eyes open and his limbs to move. Bubbles floated frantically to the surface about three feet away. Legolas saw Sam in the clear, cold water. The hobbit was twisting, his arms reaching desperately for some kind of buoy. The Elf gracefully swam over to him and grabbed Sam. Then he shot to the surface.  
  
When his head broke the water, Legolas found he was more than halfway across the river. There was no sign of the baelshre and Gimli was wiping his axe, looking quite pleased with himself. Gandalf was standing by the water's edge with Frodo, Pippin, and Merry. He was muttering something to himself, then raised his staff and pointed it towards Legolas and Sam. The water around them churned, and pushed them forward. Legolas gratefully accepted this help, for he was weary from the cold and his head throbbed. When he felt his feet drag against the bottom, he slowly stood up. Sam clamored up the shore, shivering and shedding water droplets. Merry and Pippin caught Sam with blankets and wrapped him up. Gandalf met Legolas and handed him a blanket. The Elf drew it around his shoulders and nodded thanks to the wizard. He winced as the pounding in his head beat louder. Gandalf noticed and said, "I suppose the little whack I gave you did no good."  
  
Legolas grinned through his wooziness. "As soon as I can sit down I'll be fine," he replied. He stumbled across shore to the grass and carefully sat down. He leaned against a tree and closed his eyes, relief coming over him.  
  
Something smacked Legolas. Groaning inwardly, he reluctantly opened his eyes. "Did you see it, Master Elf?" Gimli said excitedly. "The slimy toadstool just turn and ran! It knew it didn't stand a chance against the axe of a Son of Durin!" He laughed uproariously, the excitement of battle still evident in his eyes. Gimli slapped Legolas on the back and walked away, still chuckling rather madly. The Elf gave a faint smile, then closed his eyes again. Just as he was about to drift off into sleep, a tentative poke drew him back to reality.  
  
"Mr. Legolas?" a shy voice asked. Unwillingly, Legolas opened his eyes. Sam stood before him, looking a little nervous. "Thank you for jumping in after me," he said, "and for saving my life." Legolas had to smile. "You're welcome," he replied. "You have saved mine before with your cooking. Consider it a debt repaid." Sam grinned, then walked away.  
  
Legolas glanced around. No one else seemed to be coming his way. He closed his eyes, and then opened them quickly looking around. Nothing. Warily, Legolas closed his eyes. Then, someone shook him violently. Exasperated, he flung his eyes open, mumbling to himself, "Why is it so hard to get a nap?" Then, turning to his tormenter, he snapped, "What?"  
  
Aragorn was staring back at him. In an amused voice he replied, "Just checking to see if you weren't dead." Legolas rolled his eyes and as he stood up gave the Ranger a smack on the head. Aragorn laughed and stood up also. "Gandalf said you received quite a crack with his staff," he explained. "I was just going to make sure you don't have a concussion."  
  
"Well, I'm fine," Legolas said. Then Gandalf called, "Let's keep moving!" Aragorn and Legolas fell in the back of the line. They exchanged no more words, both their senses busy making sure nothing was following, sneaking up, or getting ready to attack.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Boromir walked, his thoughts wandering. While he and Aragorn had been hunting, the Ranger informed him of their predicament with the baelshre. "I'm not sure whether it's following us because of the Ring or if it's a creature of Saruman," Aragorn admitted. "But we must be on our guard." Boromir had heard horror stories of baelshres from other children in Gondor. They lived in the deepest, darkest, dankest caves they could find. They burrowed farther in the mountains than goblins. Sometimes the creatures come out at night and prey upon straggler goblins or lost travelers. They were not graceful, nor stealthy for that matter. Brute force was all that was needed. The tail was also a bonus on the baelshre's part. Boromir supposed they were related to balrogs in a fashion. He shuddered, thinking of the horrors there were in Middle-Earth. . He pulled his thoughts to the mission at hand and walked.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Merry pulled his cloak tighter around himself. It wasn't a cold night. He just needed to feel more secure. The realization that something huge, scary, and ruthless was after them had just caught up to Merry. True, he had gotten used to orcs and Ringwraiths. Those were everyday fears and bothers. But the list was getting longer. And Merry was getting scared.  
  
"The stars are bright," he heard Pippin say. His cousin turned to him. "Remember when we used to lay outside all night looking at them? And then your mum would s tart yelling at us to get inside."  
  
"Right," Merry said. "Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, get inside right now or I'll drag you in by the curls on your head and the hair on your feet," he imitated in a high-pitched squeak.  
  
"And then we'd give her the slip and climb through the window and pop up behind her, scaring the living daylights out of her," Pippin finished. They both laughed. "But Auntie," Pippin said with a wide-eyed innocent look, "we were in here the whole time."  
  
"Which would only seem to confuse and muddle her wits under the old gel could barely string two words together," Merry said, grinning widely. HE looked at the sky. "Those were the good old days," he murmured wistfully.  
  
Pippin clapped Merry on the shoulder. "We'll be back," he said reassuringly  
  
Merry looked at him. "I hope you're right."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Gandalf listened to the quiet conversation behind him. He smiled, then glanced around. Towering trees surrounded them, with mist rolling between the trunks. It was getting late. "We'll rest here for the night," Gandalf announced.  
  
The hobbits threw down their packs and scuttled about searching for firewood. Gandalf knelt by the pile of wood they had quickly thrown together and whispered a few words. Instantly, a small flame appeared and grew into a modest fire. Gimli sat close to the fire and drew out his pipe. The hobbits, Aragorn, and Gandalf followed suit.  
  
"Pass the pipeweed," Pippin demanded.  
  
"Don't you have your own?" Merry asked.  
  
"Used the last of it this morning," Pippin replied as he lit his pipe. A fragrant aroma spread all across the camp.  
  
"You know," Sam said wistfully. "This isn't going to last."  
  
"What?"  
  
"The pipeweed."  
  
"Hush, Samwise Gamgee, you'll give Pip nightmares."  
  
Aragorn and Gandalf chuckled at this exchange. Gimli offered Boromir a pipe. Boromir refused, saying, "I don't wish to deprive you of your precious pipeweed. I get enough by just inhaling."  
  
"You don't know what you're missing," Pippin said, sucking in more smoke. "You get such a wonderful headrush."  
  
Frodo laughed. He blew a smoke ring, and watched it float away. "Do Elves smoke, Gandalf?" he asked.  
  
"What a lovely idea!" Merry exclaimed. "Let's offer Legolas some!"  
  
"No, my dear boy. Elves do not smoke," Gandalf replied.  
  
"Maybe that's why they're immortal," Aragorn murmured.  
  
Legolas was standing away from the group, using watch as an excuse to stay away from the suffocating smoke around the campfire.  
  
"Wouldn't it be fun to be immortal?" Pippin said rather dreamily.  
  
"You would probably turn out to be just like them," Gimli snorted.  
  
"Now, that's not the way to look at it," Sam objected. "You could do all sorts of things."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
Sam thought a moment. "Well, anything you'd like, I suppose." He turned to Frodo. "What do you think?"  
  
"You're right, Sam," Frodo said. "You could learn every single language in Middle Earth. You could become whatever you wanted to be because you'd have all the time in the world."  
  
Boromir listened to that, then frowned. "But what about after that?" he asked. No one said a thing.  
  
"Well," Frodo said slowly, breaking the silence, "you become the second thing you wanted to be."  
  
"That makes sense," Merry agreed.  
  
Aragorn listened to what his companions thought immortality would be like. He didn't add anything to the conversation, having experienced firsthand what Elves do with their immortality. He could remember asking Elladan and Elrohir the exact same question. Elves never seemed to want to give a straight answer to this particular inquiry. They danced around the subject, and then never told. Aragorn had tried to ask Legolas one day, but he reacted the same way Elladan and Elrohir had. He supposed it was a touchy subject.  
  
Soon the conversation turned to home, travel, battle, and, as all conversations that men have, women. The fire died down, as did the pipeweed. Sleep drifted through the camp, and silence fell over all.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Gandalf watched as the Fellowship drifted off to sleep. The threat of the baelshre, the fear of orcs, and the impending gloom of Mordor had disappeared for the time being. Gandalf was glad they could still experience happiness and merriness for all that had happened, for joyous times have passed. He sighed, then rose. Mist swirled around the camp. The trees looked on ominously in the dark and the sounds of night were not very reassuring. Gandalf sighed again. "Legolas!" he called softly.  
  
"Up here, Mithrandir," said a voice from the treetops. Gandalf looked up. The Elf was seated comfortably on a sturdy branch and leaned against the trunk. "Care to join me?" he called.  
  
"Perhaps if I were younger and a bit more sprightly," Gandalf replied.  
  
Legolas gave a small smile. "I've been listening to the trees," he said as he moved to get down from his perch. He jumped and landed in a catlike crouch.  
  
"And what do they say?" Gandalf inquired.  
  
Legolas was silent. "Nothing," he said softly, frustration evident in his voice. "All I can hear are cries that danger is near. It is not clear if they mean the baelshre, the goblins, or something worse."  
  
Gandalf furrowed his brow. "Sleep, Legolas," he finally said. "I suspect we will all need our strength soon enough."  
  
*pssst! What'd you think? 


	4. Rimor

Disclaimer: See chap. 1  
  
  
  
Chapter 3: Rimor  
  
Gimli watched the sunrise. He couldn't see why Elves got so emotional about watching an orange ball rise into the sky. The dwarf cocked his head, attempting to get another perspective of it. He shook his head. "Maybe it looks different from the top of their infernal trees," Gimli muttered. He turned away and headed towards camp. Everyone was still asleep when he reached them. Reaching down, he nudged Gandalf. "Sunrise," Gimli said gruffly.  
  
Gandalf instantly rose. "Anything during the night?" he asked.  
  
Gimli shook his head. "Nay," he said. "All was quiet."  
  
Gandalf nodded, slowly. Then he turned and walked to the hobbits. Aragorn was rising, as was Boromir. Gandalf shook each hobbit in turn. Frodo blinked rapidly, then slowly rose. Sam followed his master. Merry swatted at Gandalf sleepily, while Pippin didn't even stir. "One more minute, Gandalf," he mumbled.  
  
Gandalf sighed and took his staff. He rapped Merry with it. "Up, Master Brandybuck," he said over Merry's muffled protests. "And no, Pippin, one minute would turn into two which would turn into three which would."  
  
"Okay! You don't have to torment me with sweet fantasies of sleep!"  
  
"I say, I think you could be a little more gentle with that staff of yours, Gandalf."  
  
Gandalf shook his head, smiling. He surveyed the camp. Sam was starting a small breakfast, Frodo helping when Sam deemed it would be safe and there was no danger of him hurting the food. Pippin was struggling to pull Merry out of his bedroll. When Merry refused to comply with his cousin's will, Aragorn joined Pippin in pulling Merry out of bed. As Aragorn succeeded in yanking the blanket off Merry, Merry shouted, "Oi!" That's not fair!" He leapt at the Ranger, tackling him as Aragorn laughed. The wrestling match was short lived, though. As Aragorn pinned Merry, he said, "At least it got you up."  
  
Boromir was watching this, amusement clearly written on his face. He was so amused he didn't notice Pippin sneaking up behind him. "Gotcha!" Pippin shouted as he jumped on Boromir. They fell to the ground, Pippin on top. Gimli watched with no expression, but snorted as Pippin continued to have the upperhand with Man from Gondor. Aragorn and Merry noticed and laughed.  
  
"Do you require assistance Boromir?" Aragorn called.  
  
"No," came the muffled reply. "Though I am grateful this hobbit hasn't eaten breakfast yet, or I would be in a perilous situation right now."  
  
Pippin, who was sitting on top of Boromir, crossed his arms and pouted. "Now, that's not very nice," he complained.  
  
Boromir took advantage of this moment distraction and threw Pippin off him. The Man sighed in relief and stretched, smiling at the indignant shouts of retaliation that came from Pippin. He looked up. Seat directly on a branch about 15 feet above him was Legolas. The Elf seemed to be staring into space. "Is he asleep?" Boromir asked, tilting his head.  
  
Aragorn joined him. "I think so," he answered. "Legolas! Are you awake?"  
  
No reply. Gimli tossed an acorn at the sleeping Elf. Legolas stirred, coming perilously close to the edge of the branch. "Careful!" Aragorn exclaimed. "He might fall."  
  
"In that case, can I throw another?"  
  
"No."  
  
Gimli sighed in disappointment. He instead cupped his hands around his mouth. "Elf! Wake up!" Gimli bellowed. He turned to Gandalf and said, "Maybe you should zap him."  
  
Gandalf chuckled. "I don't think so, Master Dwarf," he said. "Aragorn? Would you mind.?"  
  
"Not at all," Aragorn replied. He started climbing up the tree. The rest of the Fellowship crowded beneath the branch. When Aragorn reached Legolas' branch, he suddenly realized how far up he actually was. "Why couldn't you sleep on the ground, like normal people?" he muttered under his breath. Aragorn tentatively reached out to shake Legolas awake. As soon as he touched the Elf's shoulder, Legolas sprang into a standing position, groping for invisible knives. Surprise by this, Aragorn fell back. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting to impact the ground as he heard surprised shouts from the Fellowship. When he realized that he was still in the air, Aragorn opened his eyes.  
  
He was hanging upside-down, a few feet away from the ground and also staring Frodo straight in the eyes. He looked up, straining his neck. Legolas was grasping his ankles, also hanging upside-down. His legs were hooked around the tree branch. "Good morning!" Aragorn said cheerfully to the Elf.  
  
Legolas grinned wryly. "So, how are we going to get out of this one?" he asked.  
  
"Gandalf! Boromir!" Aragorn said. "A little help?"  
  
"I think we should leave them like that," Boromir commented. Aragorn swiped at him.  
  
"Come on, my face is turning bright red and sooner or later I think I'll drop Aragorn," Legolas protested. He paused. "Either out of exhaustion or out of pure pleasure."  
  
"Gandalf!"  
  
When Boromir and Gandalf were supporting Aragorn, Legolas let go of the Ranger. Aragorn staggered back to his feet, the blood rushing from his head. Meanwhile, Legolas was swinging slightly, getting momentum to get back up safely. Just as he swung up, there was a twang. An arrow buried itself in the tree where Legolas' head had just been.  
  
"Get down!" Gandalf hissed.  
  
Sam dove behind all his cooking gear. Merry pulled Frodo behind a bush, while Pippin hid behind a large rock. Gimli stood behind a tree, his axe pulled out and ready to swing. Boromir crouched in the cover of a large bush. Aragorn had drawn his bow and had an arrow ready, standing beside Gandalf, who had his staff wielded. Legolas disappeared into the tree's leaves. No one spoke. The surrounding forest was quiet. After a few minutes, Gandalf slowly lowered his staff. A soft rumbling filled the air. "What is it?" Aragorn whispered to the Istari.  
  
"I'm not sure," Gandalf murmured. "Do you have any ideas?"  
  
Aragorn listened to it for a minute. Slowly, he shook his head. "Whatever it is, it's coming closer."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Frodo peered through the bush he was behind. He could see Aragorn and Gandalf in the clearing, but there was no sign of the others. The air seemed to shake with something. Frodo couldn't place it, but it felt familiar. Just as the answer was about to pop in his mind, a muffled shout caught his attention. Frodo turned and saw Merry being dragged into the foliage. The hobbit was kicking and clawing at the slim hand covering his mouth. "Merry!" Frodo cried. He ran after his friend, not seeing the log in his path. "Whoa!"  
  
Frodo went flying. He landed on the ground, rolling a few feet before he slammed into a tree. Groaning, Frodo rolled onto his back. The world was spinning above him. Frodo struggled to sit up, but black flitted around his vision. He fell back down, and lay there, staring at the sky. He felt someone lift him up. Help...  
  
* * * * *  
  
Legolas peered through the trees. A noise pricked his ears. He whirled around and saw Merry and Frodo being pulled away by a hidden shadow. "Ganda." he called as he started to draw his bow, but something wrapped around his waist and threw him into the tree trunk. Legolas instantly rolled into a crouch, landing gracefully on his feet.  
  
"Master Elf!" a voice squeaked. "Rimor realized not, sorry is he." Legolas looked in front of him. A tall, thin creature was skittering back and forth along the branch, long fingers and toes gripping the tree. Its eyes were bright and a deep purple, oval shaped above a long, hooked nose. Raven black hair sprouted randomly from its head, falling in a V across its back. Folds of dark green robes cloaked a lank frame. Slim hands worked nervously together and a tail that looked more like a piece of frayed rope twitched back and forth behind the creature. Its skin was a dark shade of grey, blending with the shadows and making it look like the deep purple eyes were floating. As Legolas was trying to place what this thing was, the creature stuck its hand in its pocket. Before Legolas could react, the creature whipped out a pipe and blew. Something whizzed through the air. Pain blossomed suddenly in his neck. He stumbled. "Sorry is Rimor, dear Master Elf! But Narunien was not made to be disobeyed by me, no Elf no," the creature softly whispered, tears welling up in his mystic eyes.  
  
Legolas reached to his neck with trembling fingers. He felt something sticking out. He slowly turned to the creature as his vision blurred. Dimly, Legolas realized that he was falling. Distant screams met his ears as his eyes met with blackness.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Gandalf stood silently next to Aragorn. Nothing had moved, nothing had sounded. But Gandalf could still feel a premonition. It crept up on him still, and a warning grew fast in his heart. A stray leaf fell on his arm. He wildly jerked his staff up as something tumbled from the tree. A shriek echoed along with the crash. A whizzing noise rushed past his ear. Gandalf turned sharply only to see Aragorn collapse, a dart embedded in his arm. He looked up into the tree. A dark form scuttled between the branches, slitted orbs of amethyst glistening through the leaves. "Show yourself!" Gandalf commanded.  
  
The shape stopped abruptly. "Mighty wizard, the Grey Gandalf," it hissed. "Did not mean, no Rimor did not, harm for Elf or Ranger. Narunien order, disobeyed it cannot. Rimor does not mean anything, Grey Gandalf."  
  
Gandalf sighed and put his staff to his side. "Rimor, I thought I told you last time to tell Oleron he needs to skip the theatrics."  
  
Rimor started. "Oleron?" he gasped. "Tis not Oleron, tis Narunien. Mayhaps once was Oleron. Name was stolen, yes it was. Blue Oleron once possessed name Narunien."  
  
"Who claimed it?"  
  
Rimor hissed between his teeth. "Evil claimed," he whispered, waving his thin hand. His eyes glittered. He huddled at the trunk of the tree, blinking furiously at the wizard. "Malign things, evil, nasty little bugs in dirt. Stole Master Oleron's name they did. Rimor was not happy, no Rimor was not."  
  
"Rimor!" Gandalf bellowed. Rimor started, jerking back into the tree. "Who took his name?"  
  
"Goblins," Rimor finally answered. "Heading from Iron Hills. Found Master's namesake, that nasty Dragas. Stole Narunien."  
  
"The goblins were heading from the Iron Hills?" Gandalf asked, his brow furrowing. "We saw them heading for the Iron Hills."  
  
"Ah, Grey Gandalf, they were, they were," Rimor said softly, pointing at Gandalf with a trembling grey finger. "Gathering of goblins it was. No migration. Goblins love Misty Mountains too much. Yes, twas large gathering. All goblins of the West and North, meeting goblins of the East and South. Nasty Dragas leading with false name." Rimor growled softly, flexing his long fingers. "Wants to eat Dragas, rip his nasty, bug-eating head from shriveled body."  
  
"Rimor," Gandalf warned.  
  
"Yes yes yes," Rimor said, waving a hand. "Goblins united, good for them, bad for Rimor and home. Especially under Oleron Master's name. Give him bad name now."  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"Still bound by name Narunien. Unfortunate for Rimor, goblins discovered he was Master's servant. Dragas orders Rimor under false name, even though it be false, Rimor cannot disobey, oh no, Rimor cannot. Grey Gandalf remembers where Master Oleron found Rimor." Rimor blinked at Gandalf. "So sorry about disruption," he hissed then slithered back up the tree, his black hair waving softly as he faded into the shadows.  
  
  
  
*Good? Bad? Horrible? Should I even write more? 


	5. The Caves & Finding the Color Keys

Disclaimer: see chap. 1  
  
Chapter 4: Reaching Oleron's Caves & Finding the Color Keys  
  
Merry slowly opened his eyes to the sound of voices. He blinked away the strange, enchanting sleep and looked up. Trees loomed above him, and a cloud of smoke was wafting through the air. He rolled over and found Gandalf smoking his pipe calmly, as if nothing had happened. "Gandalf!" Merry exclaimed. "What's going on?"  
  
Gandalf made no reply. "We need to get moving," was all that he said.  
  
"Where?" Merry asked.  
  
"Five leagues out of our way," Gandalf said. "Something else has arisen."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"You will find out when I know."  
  
Merry sat back. His head throbbed slightly. He shook it away and slowly stood up. He found that Pippin, Frodo, and Sam were all sitting a stone's throw away from Gandalf, talking quietly. Pippin suddenly turned around and saw Merry. His face broke into a huge grin and he threw himself at Merry. "It's about time you woke up!" Pippin exclaimed, holding his cousin in a deadlock. "Gandalf said you would wake soon about 2 hours ago, but then again he also said that apples could talk and I KNOW he's lying." He proceeded to squeeze Merry all the tighter.  
  
Merry smiled and endured Pippin's babbling about absolutely nothing that somehow tied in with everything. He looked around camp and frowned. "What's wrong with everyone?" he asked with a puzzled look. The rest of the Fellowship was lying on the ground, all of them looking as if they were sleeping.  
  
"Same thing that happened to all of us," Sam put in. "We all got knocked out."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"We don't have a clue," Frodo said. "Gandalf was the only one who knows."  
  
"Yeah, and he won't tell us a single detail!" Pippin chimed.  
  
Meanwhile, Gandalf was still sitting leaned against his tree, a frown on his face. The words that Rimor had spoken to him were disturbing, and he knew that he had to find Oleron. He needed the wizard's counsel and hoped that Saruman hadn't corrupted him as he'd tried with himself and Radagast. Gandalf sighed. Things were complicating themselves too quickly. He turned to the hobbits as a thought struck him. "Frodo, I need you and Merry to build a fire," he instructed. "Sam, you come here and help me make something." There was a slight twinkle in his eye. "It's time we woke the others."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Frodo watched as Gandalf knelt next to Aragorn. The Ranger was still asleep, if it could be called sleep. Gandalf held a small cup of something he lovingly called The Concoction. From the way Gandalf chuckled when he said it and from the reek it had made when he and Sam were mixing it, Frodo could tell he wouldn't want to taste this. Gandalf supported Aragorn's head and gently opened his mouth. "Down it goes!" Gandalf said cheerfully as he poured it down Aragorn's throat. When the sleeping Ranger had closed his mouth, there was silence for about two seconds. He spasmodically jerked awake, coughing and spitting. All the while Gandalf was laughing heartily to himself and, still laughing, handed Aragorn a cup of water. "Good morning!" the wizard said. He patted Aragorn on the back as he was granted a most vile Look from the Ranger. "Now, don't look at me like that," Gandalf said indignantly. "It wasn't like I had any other choice." Still chuckling to himself, Gandalf turned to Gimli, humming cheerfully as he prepared another cup of The Concoction.  
  
Still gagging slightly, Aragorn took a sip from his cup, shaking his head at the wizard. "I thought you had given up on that drink," he said.  
  
"Oh no," Gandalf replied. "Been improving it for decades. See!"  
  
At that moment, Gimli burst awake, roaring as his taste buds were insulted by the awful taste. Gandalf smiled at the enraged Dwarf and moved on to Boromir.  
  
Frodo knelt next to Aragorn. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked quietly.  
  
Aragorn paused for a moment. "I only remember standing in the clearing and seeing something fall out of the tree," he said. "Then.nothing."  
  
Frodo sighed. "I want to know what dragged me away," he said. "I want to know if what happened was good or bad.or both. But the only one who knows is Gandalf."  
  
"Gandalf will tell us in his own time," Aragorn said. "When we need to know."  
  
Frodo smiled. "How bad is the." He gestured to the drink.  
  
"You don't need to know."  
  
* * * * * * Boromir sipped his water, still grimacing from the terrible taste shock he had received. He watched as Gandalf dumped out the rest of his.drink. Legolas had fortunately woken on his own, just as Gandalf was about to pour it down the Elf's throat. Needless to say, the wizard was disappointed. Boromir scowled. He was in a dark mood. He was a full-grown man, a fully trained warrior of Gondor who had just been taken down by a small blow dart. He wanted to know who had done this to him. Even though it had happened to all of them, Boromir's pride had suffered a blow. Now he just wished that they could move again and concentrate on the quest ahead.  
  
"There has been a slight change to where we are going," Gandalf suddenly announced. The wizard was standing in the middle of everyone, holding his staff tightly. "A new situation has just risen to meet the others, and it needs my attention, as well as all of yours. I need to seek out Oleron the Blue. One of his.servants, shall we say, paid us a visit which none of you remember. Rimor is the name, I believe. He brought news of the goblins starting to unite under one of them, Dragas. I do not know what they plan to do but I fear it is for the worst." He took a deep breath. "We need to go five leagues north, into the mountains."  
  
Silence filled the camp. "When do we leave?" Aragorn asked, breaking the silence.  
  
"Right now."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
It was raining. Not surprisingly so, since the clouds had been growing overcast for the past day. The Fellowship had passed through the forest in silence, contemplating what the future would hold. They had never heard of Oleron the Blue, only Aragorn and Legolas hearing his name once or twice in passing. But this new creature, Rimor, was something completely unknown. Even when Gandalf had been pressed, he was hesitant in giving out information. The reason, he said, was because Rimor is mystery. He is shadow, and is trickiness.  
  
Well, this shadow of mystery and trickiness was never mentioned after Gandalf revealed what he knew. But he was always there, always on the edge of their minds. As it was supposed to be, because Rimor had not finished all of his business with the travelers.  
  
The Fellowship trekked on through the rain and mud. More than one of them was tired and hungry while all of them more than a little disgruntled. The sun was slowly setting through the trees, a dim glow of red and orange through the grey clouds. On the horizon a few stars were beginning to shine as the clouds slowly disappeared. The rain trickled to a slow halt just as they reached the foot of the Misty Mountains.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Legolas drew back his hood as he saw the mountains rising before their path. They looked cold and dark, and loomed menacingly over them. How could anyone stand to live here? Legolas thought to himself.  
  
Gandalf stopped walking. "We'll rest here for the night," he said. "Tomorrow we need speed."  
  
Legolas threw his pack down to the ground, but did not set his bow with it. He felt.something. Something that was not right, if not evil. He shook his head, and sat down.  
  
While he had been in his reverie, a small fire had already been made with supper cooking over it and watches had been drawn. Legolas joined in the group, half-heartedly making conversation as his mind was on the gloom of the path before them.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Aragorn watched as the sun rose before him. Everyone was still sleeping. He was the last one on watch. The night had been peaceful. No nightmares disturbed the Fellowship, which was a relief. Aragorn had comforted more than one hobbit on more than one occasion from a dream of the Barrow-wights or Black Riders.  
  
Aragorn turned to the sleeping Fellowship. Everything was so calm, so different from the danger that came with every day. Sighing, he reached down to shake Gandalf.  
  
"Morning already?"  
  
Aragorn started, then smiled. He should've known that Gandalf was awake. "Time to travel," Aragorn replied.  
  
Gandalf started rummaging around in his pack, a strange smile on his face as he brought out a cup. Humming cheerfully, he turned but was stopped by a reproachful glance from Aragorn. Gandalf looked at the cup, sighed, then put it back. "Are you sure?" he asked with a hopeful look.  
  
"Quite sure," Aragorn said sternly.  
  
Sighing, Gandalf grabbed his staff and jabbed it at the nearest person. "Wake up," he said impatiently.  
  
Aragorn had to hide a smile as the unfortunate victim of Gandalf's disappointment was prodded again forcefully. Poor Pippin always seemed to be subject to Gandalf's moods. The hobbit flailed about in his sleep as Gandalf poked him again. "Up!" he demanded. Pippin reluctantly opened his eyes. "Wake up everyone else," Gandalf said. He threatened him with the staff as Pippin slowly backed away.  
  
"You are really turning into a grumpy old man," Aragorn laughed. "Just look at the poor hobbit."  
  
"I have reason to be a grumpy old man," Gandalf replied. "If you had to put up with half of what I do, you'd be grumpy too."  
  
"Speaking of which," Aragorn said softly. "What do you plan on doing when we reach Oleron?"  
  
Gandalf sighed. "I'm not sure," he said. "But I do want the whole story from Oleron. Rimor was not telling me the whole truth. There is much more to this than it seems."  
  
Pippin had finished rousing everyone else. Sam stood yawning by Bill as Frodo slowly stumbled towards his friend. Gimli was sitting on the ground, looking decidedly even grumpier than Gandalf was. Boromir also seemed to be in a sulky mood, as the Man leaned against a tree with a dark look on his face. Pippin was sitting with Merry, still watching Gandalf warily. The only one who seemed to be truly awake was Legolas, who was standing near the edge of camp. He seemed to be listening to something, his eyes tightly shut and his face worried. Suddenly, his body stiffened. Gandalf noticed this and frowned. Then he caught it. "Pack up everything quickly," he ordered. "The baelshre's on the move!"  
  
Those words seemed to be the wake-up call needed. Everyone sprang into action, items being thrown into packs and packs tossed over shoulders and pony. Surprisingly, in less than three minutes everything was ready. Gandalf led the way, running fast. Aragorn followed him with the hobbits close behind, Sam dragging Bill behind him, Gimli running with the hobbits and Boromir and Legolas on rear guard. The trees ended abruptly in a straight line as grey hills of stone rolled into mountains. In the dim light of early morning they ran up the hills, over rocks and boulders and loose gravel. All was quiet, and it almost seemed as if they were running from nothing. But some distance behind them an eerie wail echoed from the forest.  
  
"He's close!" Aragorn called.  
  
"Too close," Gimli muttered, panting slightly.  
  
"Don't worry, Master Dwarf," Gandalf said. "Oleron's caverns are not too far from us."  
  
They traveled for two hours, swiftly running at times and then walking. The baelshre's cry had been the last they heard from it, leaving all tense and jumpy. Gandalf had been adamant about reaching the caverns before the middle of the day. Each time someone asked how close they were Gandalf replied, "Closer than we were two minutes ago."  
  
And then, as abruptly as the mountains had started, they ended.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Gimli walked on the edge of the cliff they had suddenly come to, panting slightly. Over the edge of the cliff lay a small valley, where in the middle a cave opening stood. Its great black mouth yawned at them, the rocks completely smooth. Gigantic, dark trees filled the valley, no underbrush seen anywhere. There was no way down into the valley except for a thin path cut out of the mountain wall. That path turned into the most faded and most obscure path that Gimli had ever seen which led through the valley forest.  
  
He turned back to his companions. When they reached the edge of the valley, Gandalf had become very pleased and granted them a small rest. It didn't do much good, since most were still worrying about the threat of the pursuing baelshre. But since Gandalf didn't seem worried, it was a waste of energy. Gimli grunted as he walked over to the wizard. "Gandalf," he said gruffly, "what of the baelshre? Or have we suddenly become invincible?"  
  
"There are protections here," Gandalf said. "The baelshre cannot follow us once we get inside the caves. Oleron is no foolhardy wizard. Every wizard's home is layered with guards, and I daresay the only reason we got this far was because Oleron has seen us coming."  
  
Gandalf turned to the valley. "We will need every moment that is left in this day to reach Oleron. He has many tests in the air. Stay close and follow every movement I make." He started to lead them down the thin, narrow pathway into the wizard's valley.  
  
The path was smooth and slippery and not at all easy to get a grip on. Pippin would've plunged down into the valley if Boromir had not grabbed the hobbit. Sam had to coax Bill to follow them down the dark, treacherous path. When they reached the valley floor, all was silent except for the quiet whistling of an unnaturally cold wind. Gandalf motioned for them to follow him as they started cautiously on the old path. Tall, dark willow trees towered over them, shadows flitting around the trunks and their sweeping branches. Almost no sunlight shone through the leaves, leaving it a faded twilight even though the sun was high in the sky. The wind slowly blew over them, icy fingers on their faces. Gandalf froze, and everyone did the same. The willows moaned in the breeze, their branches swaying. Gandalf started to slowly stir his staff in the air, murmuring words that no one could understand. The wind started to fade away gently, but the cold did not follow it. Gandalf started to walk on.  
  
They walked for what seemed to be hours. The faded twilight slowly changed into darkness lit by numerous stars floating through the leaves. A thin mist was drifting lazily between the willows, sparkling in the starlight. No one had spoken since they entered the valley and they had not stopped for food or rest. But suddenly, Gandalf gestured for a halt.  
  
Through the mist a dark shape could be seen. Gandalf hurried them towards the shape. It was the cave. The mouth stood as tall as at least six men. The only thing that could be seen in it was pitch darkness. Gandalf approached the mouth of the cave. He raised his staff and shouted more words that were nonsense. Silence greeted his call. But then, the tunnel was suddenly flooded with light. The glow rippled its way towards the entrance, sweeping the gloom away. The walls of the cave glittered with pale yellow and white floating lights over shimmering black walls. The dancing balls seemed to stretch down the hall forever, the only beacons on the pitch-black depths.  
  
Gandalf carefully stepped into the cave, his boots softly clicking on the smoothed-down black rock that was the ground. "Watch your step," he warned. "Oleron knows of our coming, but do not be unprepared for any surprises." And with that he started to walk.  
  
Frodo followed the rest of the Fellowship into the soft glow of the hall. He paused briefly, staring at the roof of the cave. It gently sloped upwards, gradually disappeared into the upper gloom, faint blue orbs barely showing a sign of a top. Even so, Frodo thought that he could see the far away stars that soared high above the cave. The air inside the cave was warm, completely opposite of the chilling freeze outside. It was eerily quiet, but a feeling of safety was present. Still, Frodo drew Sting slightly out of its sheath. There was no warning glow. Satisfied, Frodo turned his attention back to the cave walls. He stared at them, amazed.  
  
"Does the hobbit like Master's glows?" a soft voice hissed.  
  
Frodo whirled around, his hand going to Sting. He found himself face to face with the strangest creature he had ever seen. Amethyst eyes stared out of a grey darkness into his eyes, blinking. "Strider!" Frodo cried. He fumbled for Sting, but a long hand slapped his away.  
  
"Silly hobbit, Rimor does not wish harm to you," the voice said, amused. "Only wishes to speak with Grey Gandalf."  
  
"And so you shall, Rimor," another voice said. Gandalf stepped forward. He had just calmed Aragorn, talking him out of slicing the creature into a thousand pieces. "Speak."  
  
Rimor slowly stepped out of the shadows and into the cave mouth. His dark green robes swished as he slithered past Frodo. He made his way slowly towards Gandalf, stopping in front of each member of the Fellowship and giving thoughtful, unnerving stares to them. Pippin and Merry had both flinched back at first from the grey creature who stood two feet taller than them, but then returned the stare with relish. Sam started to slowly grasp his cooking pan, prepared to whack Rimor halfway into Mordor. Gimli stood as tall as he could possibly make himself and stared Rimor right in the eyes. Boromir seemed slightly edgy when Rimor passed him. The creature grinned nastily to himself, and then saw Legolas. The Elf was fingering his bow dangerously, and Rimor seemed to take the hint. Then he looked at Aragorn, not with calculating glances but with curiosity. Aragorn did the same. And finally Rimor came to Gandalf.  
  
"So sorry for wait," Rimor said softly. "Had to measure up company. See if they have what they need." He turned slightly to Boromir again and winked with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Now, for real speaking." Rimor straightened up. "Master's guards are up, but by the moonrise will be down. Nothing will be safe in Master's hallway. Goblins come to storm, Dragas comes." He gnashed his teeth. "Company must reach Blue Master by moonrise."  
  
"How long do we have until moonrise?" Gandalf asked, his brow furrowing.  
  
"Until it comes," Rimor replied.  
  
"Rimor." Gandalf warned.  
  
"Fine fine fine," Rimor muttered. "One hour. Rimor cannot show you the way, oh no. But mayhaps he can give you keys to Master's shortcuts."  
  
"What kind of keys?" Aragorn interjected before Gandalf could say anything.  
  
Rimor grinned devilishly. "Keys that you cannot lose," he whispered. "Keys that you keep inside. Keys that no one can take from you. Keys that can be seen, but also be made unseen." He slyly placed his hand behind his back, and brought it back out. An orb with millions of colors and stars swirling around in it was floating above his palm. "What shall you be?"  
  
Without warning, he threw the orb up at the roof. It sailed up into the depths, exploding somewhere high up. A rainbow of sparks came fluttering down, sprinkling the ground. All the lights went out on the walls, the only light the kaleidoscope of colors.  
  
Legolas watched it carefully, his neck craned so he could see up into the roof. The explosion had faded somewhat, but somewhere up there something else was brewing. A sunrise of colors seeped down the walls, racing against each other. When it reached about halfway down, the colors leaped off of the cave walls and fell towards the Fellowship. Startled, and too absorbed to react, a color stream hit Legolas square in the chest. He slammed into the ground, hitting his head. Right next to him he heard another thump. Aragorn had been struck down by a color stream and was lying on the ground. Legolas watched, dazed, as the color ran across the Ranger's chest in a whirlpool, centering over his heart. The color chased itself around and around, till it seemed to be disappearing into Aragorn's chest. Sam was running around the halls, shouting as he tried to outrun a color stream. But in the end it hit him and he landed on his back like everyone else. Legolas tried to sit up, only to feel a strange rush to his head. He looked down and saw he had his own whirlpool of colors. He felt unusually warm. A strange sensation shivered down from his head to his feet, tickling him. Then, Legolas felt a blast of intense pressure on his chest. He struggled to breathe as his lungs felt like they were being crushed. Green and blue spots danced in front of his eyes and then his vision exploded into darkness.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Something pounded on the rock. An annoying sound that hurt and grated his ear drums. The sound was slowly transferring the pounding to inside his head, making it feel as if he had been beaten, dragged by a horse, dropped from a cliff, and then drank one too many and given the worst hangover in the history of Middle Earth. Boromir groaned and swatted at whatever was making that noise, to try and make it stop. His hands met nothing but air. Grimacing, he opened his eyes, and then shut them instantly as a flash of hot colors burst in front of him. "What the devil did you do to us, Rimor?" Boromir growled. There was no answer except for the soft scraping noise, and a mischievous giggle. Boromir growled, and then gritted his teeth. The pounding on his head had gotten no better and he doubted that it would. Sighing, he steeled himself and opened his eyes again. This time he was not blinded, but a strange sight greeted his sore eyes.  
  
Everyone was on the ground. Well, that was nothing new. It seemed to be happening all the time. But it was the manner on which everyone was on the ground. They were on their backs in a strange semicircle, seeing as how they had all fallen in different parts of the hall. Over each person's heart glowed and pulsed a color. Gimli had red, Pippin had orange, Merry had brown, Frodo had yellow, Sam (oddly enough) had pink, Legolas had green, Aragorn had purple, and Gandalf had white. Boromir looked down at his own chest and saw a glowing circle of.black? A chill ran down his spine. He had always been taught that black was a symbol of evil. He glanced at it again, and saw it slowly swirl and change to red. He looked at Legolas'. The Elf's was slowly fading into blue. In fact, everyone's was changing color. Maybe the colors didn't mean anything. Maybe they were just random colors. But still, Boromir couldn't shake the strange feeling he received from that black circle.  
  
"Wake your friends," hissed a voice. "Moonrise is coming." Rimor moved into the light. His raven black hair fell over his face, hiding some expression that Boromir couldn't make out.  
  
When Boromir made no move to wake anyone, Rimor hissed and slid with lightning speed towards the warrior. "Wake them!" he growled. "Rimor will not be made responsible for your failure." With that, the creature started to move into the dark again. He called to Boromir, "Use Color Keys wisely and quickly. Only till moonrise, then it is only mayhaps whether you reach Master."  
  
"Wait!" Boromir called. "How do we use these.Color Keys?"  
  
Rimor glanced over his shoulder. "Only use the right color on the right door," he whispered. "And then you will know. You better know, Gondor Man." Rimor hissed at him, and jumped up the wall to slither away into the unknown, leaving Boromir to wake his comrades and begin their journey. 


	6. The Doors

Author's Note: This is a chapter that has absolutely no purpose other than getting to Oleron and such. So, I hope you enjoy this next chapter of what I consider to be space-filling fluff, for those of you who were looking forward to this (I won't mention any names *cough *ARYA*) and for those of you who don't even know why I'm writing this.  
  
Disclaimer: See Chap. 1  
Chapter 5: The Doors  
  
"Pink," Sam grumbled. "It HAD to be pink." He crossed his arms against himself, skulking as they walked quickly through the caves.  
  
"It's not that bad, Sam," Frodo said, smiling. "No one can see it, considering how Gandalf hid them."  
  
"That's true, Mr. Frodo. But before when everyone could see it, it was horrible! I saw everyone smile when they woke up!"  
  
"Come on, Sam! Pink stands for love and friendship and a gentle soul," Frodo replied. "I think that describes you perfectly."  
  
Sam shook his head. "It's still not right," he protested. "You got yellow. Merry got brown and Pippin got orange! AND I GOT PINK!"  
  
"Be honored you got pink," Aragorn called back. "Even though it isn't the most flattering color for you, Frodo was right in saying that it describes you perfectly. Pippin got orange because orange stands for energy. Do you disagree with that match?"  
  
Pippin grinned devilishly. "I think pink suits you very well, Sam," he said.  
  
"Enough talk!" Gandalf scolded. "We only have a half an hour to reach Oleron, and then his caves will be swarming with goblins and who knows what else!"  
  
The hobbits quickly silenced themselves and picked up the pace. Once they had woken from the spell that Rimor had performed, Gandalf had at once started them out. He had seen the Color Keys and become very quiet for a moment. But he did seem pleased that they had been granted them, even though he covered them up to hide them from prying eyes. When Gimli had asked what they would do, Gandalf had replied, "They will do what keys naturally and obviously do. Open doors." He refused to answer all other questions, for some obvious reasons and others more obscure. They all knew the danger that followed them and would break in after moonrise, so the Fellowship accepted that as the answer as to why Gandalf wouldn't say anymore.  
  
No doors that needed unlocking had crossed their path. Yet. He was afraid of what they would have to do in order to use the Keys, so Sam hoped that they wouldn't need them at all. Magic was something that the gardener never dabbled in, considering the fact he was a very plain hobbit. It wasn't that he was afraid of magic. He was just afraid of what magic did to people. The stupid Ring that Bilbo had found, the stupid Ring that Frodo was now carrying, was obviously a magical, bewitched item. Seeing as what they'd been through with the Ring certainly gave Sam clearance to hate it and fear what he had chosen to fear.  
  
The cave was still silent. The feeling of protection seemed to be leaking out of the air, a warning of what was coming. Sam shivered slightly. The warm air was not so warm now. A slight wind had started to build up, strange since the entrance of the cave was so far behind and the end even farther. The walls seemed to be getting closer and closer together and the lights weren't as bright now. Everything was turning darker. Soon it was all faded. Sam couldn't see past Gandalf at the head of the line and when he turned back Boromir was the last thing he could make out. The darkness seemed to be following them, but never swallowing them whole in its shadow.  
  
Abruptly, Sam stumbled. He protested, only to be silenced quickly. The Fellowship had stopped, seemingly in front of a wall. Inwardly, Sam groaned. This was the part that he'd been dreading. The way was locked, and the only way to get through was to obviously unlock it. The door was a solid dark red with no keyhole, only a small, round hole that was about three feet from the ground in the dead center. The door filled the width of the hallway, a perfect roadblock.  
  
"Lovely," Sam muttered.  
  
Gandalf peered at the door carefully, scrutinizing it. Finally he stepped back. "What did Rimor say to you, Boromir, right before he left?" Gandalf asked.  
  
"Only to use the right key on the right door," Boromir replied. "And then we would know what to do."  
  
Gandalf sighed. "All right, then," he said. "We'll improvise. Who had red?"  
  
"That would be me," Gimli said gruffly. He glanced at the door apprehensively, but made no move to get any closer to it.  
  
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Gandalf said impatiently. "Walk up to it!"  
  
Gimli looked at Gandalf, then shook his head and mumbled something indignantly as he stalked towards the door. He planted himself right in front of the hole and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now what?"  
  
"Get closer," Aragorn advised. He turned to Gandalf and saw that the wizard was deep in thought, his brow furrowed. It was all very well that Gandalf was thinking, but now wasn't exactly a good time. If something happened they would need the wizard to do.whatever it would take to avert the new calamity.  
  
Gimli started to walk towards the door. As soon as he took his first step, a strange, eerie humming echoed through the silent hall. Gimli froze. So did the humming.  
  
A deadly silence filled the air, one worse than it had been to start with. This time the stillness seemed to stretch all the way behind them, reaching back to the entrance and beyond. Suddenly, Sam felt as if he would go insane if nothing was said.  
  
"Keep going!" Legolas hissed sharply. The Elf seemed to be as agitated as Sam had been. "Gimli, there's no time for your Dwarf wits to be overcome by awe at the simple sound of humming!"  
  
"Why, I don't suppose an Elf-"  
  
"Just open the door!" Frodo exclaimed in a panicked whisper. The hobbit's face was sheet white and he was trembling, clutching at something around his neck.  
  
Gimli was startled at the tone of the hobbit's voice. The dwarf turned to the door again with determination on his face. "All right then, Door," he muttered. "It's just you, me, and my Key. I do believe that you'll be the one to face the awful fate of opening the way for us." And with that, he charged the door.  
  
Red light exploded everywhere, and time stopped.  
  
Everything was frozen. Gimli was stuck in midair, his mouth opened in a challenging shout. Frodo was still grasping at the Ring around his neck and Sam was right next to him, supporting his friend. Pippin was huddled at the ground, a single tear stopped on his cheek. Merry had been moving towards his cousin. Gandalf was still in his thoughtful position and Aragorn beside him with a surprised look on his face. Boromir was standing as still as a tree and Legolas had his face turned slightly away from the door, his hand frozen as it moved to cover his eyes. Silence smothered the cave, and the bright orbs that had been glittering on the walls were caught between pulses. The area by the door was enveloped in an electric red light. But just beyond in the shadows, eyes could be seen gleaming. Goblins had reached the caves. The hour of moonrise had come.  
  
Then, as abruptly as time had stopped, it started again.  
  
Gimli dropped to the ground with a thud and an undignified shout. "Stupid door! I'll show you - "  
  
A creaking noise cut him off. The door was moving. It slowly swung open, rock grinding against rock. The Fellowship scrambled backwards as the door was unlocked. A dim red light danced around the edges of the walls like deadly fire. Once the door was fully opened, Gandalf leaned through the doorway to peer down the passage. It was pitch black, no orbs along the walls. A cold wind whistled through the corridor. It looked almost as long as the one that they had just journeyed down, but Merry fancied that he could see another door at the end of the tunnel.  
  
"Come on," Gandalf said. "Time to go." He hustled them into the hallway with a furious air of urgency. No one was keen to venture into the darkness, but where else was there to go?  
  
Aragorn was the last one to pass through. Just as he was about to step into the new hall, he stopped. A faint whispering noise reached his ears. Aragorn turned back. His eyes widened, and he threw himself back into the darkness, crashing into Boromir. The door slammed shut and pitch black tumbled down on them. A lone screech could be heard. Something started to scrape at the door, scratching noises that barely penetrated the thick rock. Aragorn stood back up. "I suppose it's moonrise," he commented rather calmly.  
  
"Yes, it would appear to be so," Gandalf replied, his brow furrowing. "Well, since Rimor gave us nine keys and we just used one, I do believe that we must do that eight more times."  
  
"Oleron really likes flashy spells, doesn't he?" Pippin commented.  
  
"He always did like to overdo it," Gandalf said. There was a rustling noise as he reached for his staff, and then a loud SNAP.  
  
"What did you do?" Frodo asked.  
  
"I tried to get us some light so we could see where we are going," Gandalf replied. "But there must be some sort of block. We have to go on without it."  
  
"But what if there's a fork in the path?"  
  
"What if the goblins get through?"  
  
"What if something is following us and we can't see it?"  
  
"What if we miss the door?"  
  
"What if - "  
  
"BE QUIET!" Gandalf roared. "Keep all of your what ifs to yourself and in the dark places in your mind! Have your mind on lighter thoughts!"  
  
No one said a word. All they could hear was their breathing.  
  
"Lead on Gandalf," Legolas said softly.  
  
"All right then," Gandalf said in a tired voice. "Everyone, stay close to the person in front of you. Hold on to them with one hand and keep the other hand on the wall. I will have both hands on the wall, so we will know if the path divides. My staff will make sure that nothing will trip our feet." He didn't say how he was going to manage that, since he only has two hands. But no one mentioned that. They could hear Gandalf place his staff in front of him and put his hands on the walls. They all followed suit and started the long trek in the dark.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Legolas felt the wall with his hand blindly. His eyes had not yet grown accustomed to the darkness and he didn't expect them to at any time. They hadn't been walking but ten minutes and it already felt like an eternity. Their footsteps made no echoes. The only sound was the tapping of Gandalf's staff and the quick, frightened breath coming from the hobbits. Legolas grasped Aragorn's cloak more firmly. The Ranger and the Elf were the rearguard, listening carefully for anything that could be sneaking up on them.  
  
Legolas shook his head and let his mind drift a little to thoughts of the woods and sunlight. He almost didn't hear Aragorn whisper, "Stop!"  
  
"What's going on?" Legolas whispered back.  
  
"Poor Elf, not knowing what happens," a voice said sadly that was not Aragorn's voice at all. "Must tell him, someone. Elf needs to know."  
  
Legolas froze. He could feel something circling him slowly, feel dark eyes stare at him. The strange sensation of fear and the unsettling feeling that he was trapped started to overcome him. He could feel his breathing quicken and his heart start to pound.  
  
"No need for Elf to get excited!" the voice said in an amused tone. "No danger, nothing fearful here. Except mayhaps the dark and next door. If only they could see."  
  
"Rimor, this is no time to play word games!" Aragorn said. "How far to the next door?"  
  
"Why tell when I can show?"  
  
Legolas felt a brush of air as something tapped his chest. Green light exploded from nowhere along with a strong surge of propulsion. Legolas slammed into the cave wall and sank to the floor, curling up into a tight ball. His head throbbed and it felt like he was on fire. He couldn't breathe and coughed as he tried to suck in precious air.  
  
"Now they can see," Rimor's voice hissed softly in his ear before fading away.  
  
Someone grabbed his shoulder. "Are you all right?" Aragorn demanded.  
  
Legolas didn't answer. He just coughed again and let his body go limp. Dark lights danced in front of his closed eyes as he felt hands run over his back, gently feeling his ribs for any breaks or cracks. He felt those same hands slowly pry him out of his ball and force him to lay flat on his back. Sharp gasps sounded in the hall. The hands finished their search and left Legolas to himself.  
  
"Is that light from the Key?" he heard Sam whisper.  
  
"Of course!" he heard Gandalf exclaim. "I should have realized the Keys could show us the way!"  
  
"Can you stand?" Aragorn asked him.  
  
Legolas shook his head slightly. "Can't move," he whispered. It was true. It seemed that all his energy had left him and went to keeping the light on. He could barely summon enough energy to blink, let alone breathe. Hands grabbed him and lifted him upright. He sagged against whoever was holding him.  
  
"Keep him so the light still shines, Boromir," Gandalf ordered.  
  
Legolas could faintly sense Boromir nodding as he was dragged through the tunnel.  
  
"Look! There's the door!" Merry exclaimed.  
  
"And it is about time," Gimli said. "Who knows if the goblins are still following us?"  
  
"It's not the goblins I'm worried about," Sam murmured.  
  
"What color is the door?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"Well, it looks green," Gimli commented. "But that could just be because of our Elf's light over there."  
  
"Black," Legolas whispered.  
  
"What did he say?" Frodo asked.  
  
"He said black," Boromir replied, shifting Legolas slightly. "But how could he know? He's practically asleep as it is."  
  
"Well, I certainly don't think it's yellow," Pippin put in. "Black's a good a guess as anything."  
  
"Black it is then," Gandalf decided. "Who had black?"  
  
"I did," Boromir said hesitantly.  
  
"There's nothing to it, Boromir," Gimli said confidently.  
  
Boromir handed Legolas off to Aragorn and slowly approached the door. The door didn't even look like a door. It seemed to be a gigantic hole in the middle of the path. No keyholes were visible. He reached out his hands and leaned toward the door. His hands hit cold, solid rock.  
  
As soon as he touched the door, something sucked him towards the rock. Boromir slammed into the wall of rock, seemingly glued in place. He struggled a bit, futilely pushing against the wall. "Well, now what?" he cried.  
  
"That certainly is different," Gimli muttered. He walked up next to the man and pressed his ear to the stone.  
  
"What's that going to do?" Boromir exclaimed. "Listening to the door isn't going to get me off it!"  
  
Gimli hushed him and resumed his listening. Finally he stepped back. "Something is clicking in there," he said quietly. "It should be opening."  
  
As if on cue, Boromir dropped to the ground and rolled away from the door. The stone opened noiselessly, bright light sweeping in as it opened. They shielded their eyes from the glare. The door opened all the way. Once eyes had adjusted, they dared taking a look at the new hallway.  
  
It was bright orange. Once more there were orbs of light yellow that flitted from wall to wall across the path, but barely seen as they were outshone by the brilliance of the hot orange. The ceiling no longer seemed to go up forever, but only a short way. This hall was only about twelve feet long and a short, thin door that covered about a third of the end wall stood as the way out.  
  
As before, the door swished shut when the last person had entered. This time they all hurried quickly down to the other end of the hall, eager to get on. Aragorn no longer carried Legolas. The green light had disappeared as soon as the next door had opened and the Elf had regained his strength. As they ran through the hall, the flitting orange lights bounced by them, occasionally hitting a person. The lights did not hurt, but only gave an intense tingle that made the receiver shiver for a few seconds. Energy. That's all that it was.  
  
Pippin reached the end of the hall before the others and stood in front of the door. It was just his size and height. He took a deep breath and walked towards the door. Nothing happened when he approached it. But when he reached to touch it, a small brass knob melted out of the surface. Curious, Pippin held out his hand over the knob. A small bolt of orange light shot from his palm and hit the knob. Pippin jumped and retracted his hand as if he had been burned.  
  
The door disappeared.  
  
"Well, that was easy," Pippin said brightly. He marched through the small opening with Merry, Sam, and Frodo on his heels. Gimli ducked his head a little and followed, bursting into a world of pink and nothing else.  
  
The scent of roses drifted through the air, rustling the petals of flowers that were walls raised about six feet. Pinks and magentas and roses and rouges filled the field that was really a hall. The ground was the crushed rose petals which had already fallen from the wall. Up high above the sky was blue and the sun was shining softly. Gimli could swear he saw the tops of willow trees far over the flower walls, their boughs trailing down with endless coils of pink lianas.  
  
"Well," he heard Merry mumble, "I think we know who has the key to this door."  
  
"But where do we find a door?" Pippin asked.  
  
"At the end of the tunnel, Pip."  
  
"But we're outside."  
  
"No, I think we're still in the tunnel."  
  
"Does this look like a tunnel to you? Merry, I do believe I know what outsides look like."  
  
"But you obviously don't know what enchanted tunnels look like."  
  
"How do you know it's an enchanted tunnel? What if we were led outside of a building and this path leads us to another?"  
  
"Do you see any building behind us Pip?"  
  
"No, the walls are blocking my view."  
  
"We've been walking straight for five minutes!"  
  
"So?"  
  
Frodo walked close to the wall, his hand carefully drifting over the flowers. It felt so peaceful here, even if this here wasn't a real place. For the first time in days, Frodo let his mind wander to other things than regrets, fears, and uncertainties.  
  
Close behind the hobbit, Sam was also walking. But his mind wasn't at ease. No, he was worrying about how to open this door that was certain to be coming soon. So far each door had been opened differently. How was his to be unlocked? Sam sighed and pressed on. He could still hear Pippin and Merry bickering about what exactly they were walking in, with Gimli and Aragorn occasionally throwing in their opinions and Gandalf giving them all reasons why they were wrong. Boromir of course would be listening, taking in all these new and strange opinions that probably made no sense. Sam knew that Frodo was content with his thoughts right now, and he suspected that Legolas was basking in nature's presence also, enchanted nature or not.  
  
A shadow fell over him. Surprised, Sam looked up. On both sides of the path were two of the willow trees that he had seen over the walls. The pink lianas still hung from the branches, drifting quietly in a gentle breeze that struck up. The lianas were hanging directly in the path, blocking it, so Sam mindlessly pushed them away and strode through the gap he had created. When he passed through the flowers, he stopped. It was no longer pink that he could see. Everything seemed to be a different shade of brown. Tree trunks surrounded the path now, towering high and blocking out the sun. Leaves on the treetops couldn't be seen and there was no grass or random foliage sprouting from the ground. It was the color of dusk that had strained every other color out.  
  
Sam turned around. The gap in the trees led back to the bright pink world of flowers. The lianas seemed to be held back by something. It was almost like a door. A door! He had opened his door as simple as that! No falling down, no violence, no sparks, nothing. Just push through and be on your way! Now Sam was suddenly glad that he had been walking first. He didn't want to imagine the possibilities of things that might've happened if Frodo had been leading, or anyone else.  
  
The rest of the Fellowship ducked beneath the swinging lianas and entered a new hall.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Aragorn breathed in deep. This new place smelled of pines drying out, their sharp scent lifting into the air. Smells did wonders to how you saw things. Aragorn had always been slightly partial to forests of pine trees.  
  
But as much as he loved to just breathe in the air, something was troubling him. There had been no sign of the goblins since the first hall. Rimor had practically assured them that nothing could get through without a key. But he also said that the defenses would be at a minimum after moonrise. They were making good time and speed, although they had no idea how long it had actually been since they first arrived in the valley. The hobbits seemed to be holding up well with good spirits. Going by what Gandalf had commented on, they had to reach five more doors and pass through four more halls. There was a lot that could go wrong.  
  
The path turned sharply right. Aragorn found himself face-to-face with a gigantic tree. It out-loomed everything that had ever loomed over him before and he backed up a little. Merry eagerly pushed past him and looked up at the tree. "Is this my door?" he asked.  
  
"Since it is in our way, I believe that is a safe bet," Gandalf commented.  
  
Merry gently placed a hand on the trunk. He felt around the bark for a while, and then his face lit up completely. He yanked at something that was beneath his hand and then let go. A large portion of the bark peeled away to reveal a simple brown door. Excited, Merry laid his hand on the door to try to unlock it.  
  
There was a billowing puff of white smoke and with a frightening explosion, Merry got blasted backwards in Legolas, sending them both flying to the ground. The smell of something hot and burning leaked in, covering the scent of pine. The brown door literally melted into a pile of slush and brilliant white light flooded through the hole. A cold, steely wind gusted out with the light.  
  
"Wow," Merry breathed, completely unfazed by the fact that he had just been blown out by a door. He struggled to get up, tripping over Legolas since he was still on top of the Elf. Legolas gently shoved Merry free and pushed himself off the ground, getting a better look at the opened door. The smell had faded, but the wind and the light had not.  
  
Gandalf approached the door. He peered into the new hall, and smiling a hidden smile to himself. "Well, we should press on," he said and launched himself forward. Everyone followed him rather warily, wondering that since the door had exploded, could that possibly be a good sign? Pippin had completely thrown himself behind Aragorn while Aragorn had tried to hit the ground. Gimli, much to his shame, had ducked behind a tree instead of facing his "doom" while Sam had bravely stood in front of Frodo to protect his master, but not knowing that Frodo had taken Gimli's idea of hiding behind a tree. Boromir had done the most sensible thing out of all of them; he used his shield. Gandalf's idea just couldn't be called sensible at all, really. He had started walking towards the door as it exploded. And now he just vanished into a world as bright as the clouds.  
  
But the world wasn't full of clouds. White-hot lightning zigzagged through the air, crackling with false intensity as it vanished into the ground. Almost impossibly, freezing snow was falling from above but never collecting on the ground. The hall seemed to have no boundaries, the only marking white stones outlining an invisible path. Their clothes, which had seemed dull before, stood out vibrantly against the stark landscape.  
  
"Can we go through this one real quick-like, Mr. Gandalf?" Sam shouted over the buzz of lightning.  
  
"This lightning doesn't seem to be harmful," Boromir shouted back. "Look, it hits nowhere near the path."  
  
A bolt slammed into the ground right before Boromir's feet. He froze, then looked up. "Maybe Sam's right, Gandalf," he yelled. "Quick would be better."  
  
Gandalf merely chuckled at this, but did pick up the pace slightly. Frodo hurried behind him, feeling that it was safer closer to the wizard. 'Gandalf has become extremely jolly all of a sudden', he noted to himself, 'like he knows something we don't.' But Frodo shrugged that thought away and focused on following the white stones.  
  
Green flashed before his eyes. Frodo cried out and buried his face in his arm. After all that white, as bright as it was, it hurt to see another color. When the spots before his eyes had disappeared, he cautiously peeked out. The colorless hall had vanished, replaced with something else entirely. But Frodo didn't remember seeing a door anywhere. All he knew was Gandalf walking before him, plowing forward.  
  
It was like a jungle, a rainforest. Ferns and leaves, gigantic umbrella leaves, and grass stalks that were impossibly tall surrounded them on all side. The tree trunks should've been brown, but instead were a dark, deep green. Blue flowers were scattered throughout the plants, nestled safe in their havens. Frodo was surprised at seeing two different colors in one hall, but quickly dismissed it. The air was thick and moist. It felt like you were breathing water.  
  
Legolas carefully picked his way through the forest. He could feel so many different thoughts whispering through this place, and he knew that these plants and trees were real and not spelled. And yet, even though the whispers were only peaceful whispers, he could dimly sense some form of malice, tainted thoughts trailing through the air. He quickly worked his way up the Aragorn. "Do you sense it?" he whispered when he reached the Ranger.  
  
"Yes," Aragorn murmured, his eyes measuring their surroundings.  
  
"Could the goblins have broken through?"  
  
"Rimor did say that the defenses would fall after moonrise. I think, in all possibilities, they got through at least the first three doors."  
  
"Aragorn, nothing can feel like a goblin except for a goblin. They passed the doors."  
  
"All right. We will just have to be on our guard and make haste to the next doors."  
  
A cry reached through the forest. They froze. Aragorn looked at Gandalf and Gandalf immediately picked up on his thoughts. "The goblins have broken into the halls," he said. "Run!"  
  
Legolas took off in front of the group, not knowing what his door would look like. Even though the forest had grown quiet, there was something out there. And at the moment the arrows started flying from the trees, Legolas knew that unless they reached the door quickly the goblins could easily pick them off one by one from the cover of the foliage.  
  
"There!" he heard Gimli yell. "Up ahead!"  
  
Legolas looked for his door. What he found surprised him. It was no door, but a pit. And when he reached the edge of it, its black depths stared out at him. He thought he could see the glinting points of sharp spears far away at the bottom. "Are you sure this is it?" he asked in desperation.  
  
"It has to be!" Boromir said. "The forest virtually ends right here!" And true enough, there was a solid green wall in front of them.  
  
An arrow whizzed by Legolas' shoulder. He ducked and quickly grabbed his bow to shoot, but before he could let an arrow loose felt Gimli shove him into the pit. Legolas still shot his arrow as he fell, and felt grim satisfaction when he heard a dying shriek. But he couldn't see anything. The black had engulfed him, drawing him into the gaping gorge. Legolas struggled to hold onto his bow as wind whipped by him. He struggled a little too hard and ended up plunging down headfirst. Surprisingly, he felt no fear when he saw the bottom rushing up on him. The spears that he had imagined were there but started to slowly melt away when they were replaced with a rapidly growing pool of water. Groaning slightly to himself, Legolas steeled himself for the shock of water as he plunged closer and closer to the bottom.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
"Hey, wake up!" a voice whispered. "No time for sleeps. Time comes later."  
  
Boromir slowly opened his eyes. When he had blinked away sleep and glanced around at the unconscious forms around him, he groaned. Not again. He seriously needed to get everyone working on waking up simultaneously.  
  
"Hey! No time for sightseeing!"  
  
Boromir started at the voice and turned towards it. He groaned again and buried his head in his hands.  
  
"Not happy to see old Rimor, aren't you? Poor Rimor is tired of shun. Mayhaps he should deliver his message elsewheres." The creature paced by Boromir's side, his purple eyes flashing and raven hair swishing over his thin grey shoulders. "Mayhaps goblins would care to know Master's message!"  
  
"No!" Boromir exclaimed. "Don't go telling them. I'm listening."  
  
Rimor sniffed at the man. "Yes, listening, but you thinking as well?" Rimor stopped pacing and stood up straight, smoothing his dark green robes with a slim hand. "One, goblins right above your head and trying to break through to us. Two, Master of the Caves wishes Fellowship to know that only one door lies ahead, not two. But will you know which color to use? Tis a test. Can't be too trusty these days. Observe carefully surroundings and meanings. Make wise decisions, you must."  
  
"Are there any hints or clues you can give us?" Boromir asked, hoping that this creature would help them  
  
"Hmmm." Rimor thought. "Ah, here..no, won't do.maybe this would. no, wrong clue.."  
  
He stood pondering for a minute, then suddenly leaned in to Boromir's face. Boromir jumped. "No cheating in test," Rimor hissed dangerously. He slowly stood up. "Must warn Master about this one," he murmured to himself before slithering over the stone floor towards a heavy oak door. A door! Boromir sat up straighter and watched as Rimor neared the final door. The creature glanced over his shoulder, and winked at Boromir knowingly. Then he reached playfully for the doorknob, and disappeared into thin air.  
  
Growling in frustration to himself, Boromir crawled over to the nearest person's side. He was tired, he was wet (the water had been real), he was hungry, he was sore, and he was sick of falling down and walking. They needed to crack the riddle that would open the last door and then they could get some answers for.whatever questions they had about.whatever they were here for.  
  
With one last grumble to himself, Boromir reached out to shake Legolas. As he waited for the Elf to become coherent, he thought back to the pit. After they had realized that Legolas had opened the pit door, Boromir remembered that they all hurled themselves into the gaping darkness. The goblins had followed them, falling so close behind them. He could still feel the water's icy fingers when he hit it and dimly remembered being sucked into some kind of vortex and spun around a lot. And then everything had gone dark, but not before he hit the ground hard.  
  
"Did the door open?" Legolas asked dazedly, obviously coming out of his sleep.  
  
"Unless you think the Halls of Mandos involve lying in a puddle for all eternity," Boromir commented. He looked around. "Though I can see where you get the whole Halls idea."  
  
Legolas snorted and carefully picked himself up. He and Boromir shared the duty of awakening everyone else, which has become rather like a routine. Once everyone could understand what other people were saying, Boromir related the news that had been brought.  
  
"So, I was thinking," Boromir said offhandedly, "that maybe we should try and open this door rather quickly, seeing as how the goblins are most likely trying to get through to us."  
  
"No clues and two colors," Gandalf murmured. "Yellow and purple. What are we supposed to use to distinguish between the two?" He walked up to the wooden door, looking closely at it. "The crown is circling the sun. What is that supposed to mean?"  
  
Merry glanced at the walls. The same sun and crown were etched in patterns over the walls, neither seeming to be more important. There was no defining color in the hall, just neutral brown. But wait.brown. Didn't purple and yellow make brown? At that instant Merry heard a soft laugh in his ear and thought that he had just seen an eye wink at him from the door. He knew that he was right.  
  
While Gandalf was busy puzzling over this and the rest of the Fellowship taking the advantage of a break, Merry casually strolled up to the door. He pretended that he was just examining the images on the door, and then he shot a quick glance at Gandalf. The wizard was paying him no attention. Merry grinned devilishly, and then grabbed the doorknob and twisted.  
  
"MERIADOC BRANDYBUCK!" Gandalf bellowed, smacking the hobbit's hand away from the doorknob. "WHAT DO YOU THINK- "  
  
The door slowly creaked open. Gandalf trailed off and looked at the door in disbelief. He turned to Merry, and then back to the door. He glanced at Merry again, then broke out in laughter. He ruffled Merry's hair and kept laughing, almost hysterically. "Come on then," Gandalf said merrily, still chuckling. "Off we go!" With that, he disappeared through the door, his laughter echoing back to them. Merry grinned again, and then rushed to follow Gandalf to meet Oleron the Blue.  
*Yay! Wasn't that exciting? Probably not. Anyhow, I liked describing all those things. It was jolly good fun. Well, if you like or if you hate, please review. It's the nice thing to do.* 


	7. Oleron

Author's Note: It's been months. Everyone has probably lost interest (if there was any to begin with) so I post this for the sole purpose of being posted.  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
Chapter 6: Oleron  
  
Pippin peered through the door. He was the last one to brave entering the darkness. It was quiet, but he could still hear Gandalf laughing rather madly and the hushed footsteps of the Fellowship.  
  
"There's nothing in the dark," Pippin mumbled to himself as he tentatively stepped through the solid oak door framed. He paused. "Well, there might be that funny creature with the crazy purple eyes. And quite possibly Oleron the Blue is as insane as Saruman." He shrugged and kept walking, his eyes darting around.  
  
It kept getting darker and darker as Pippin groped his way along the wall. The air was losing the stuffiness that it had possessed in the caves, the faint smell of fire smoke and old, musty books wafting in and replacing it. The path widened and Pippin could no longer touch both walls. He stopped walking and stood in the middle of the hallway, at a loss. By now there was no shadowy light in the hall. He listened carefully for signs of his friends. But there was no sound, not even the plinking of water that Pippin thought were always in dark, cave-like halls. The fire smell had gotten stronger, though. "Hello?" he shouted.  
  
A faint whooshing noise rushed past Pippin's ears. A stream of soft, yellow light glittered above his head and started to sprinkle down to the floor. It embedded in the stones beneath his feet and along the whole path, illuminating the way. "That certainly solved several problems," Pippin breathed to himself as he watched the smoldering glow spread down the hall. He started walking again, feeling lightheaded as if he were on a path that stretched through the night sky and farther. He was so intent on watching his new walkway that he didn't see it end. "Ow!"  
  
Pippin rubbed his head, glaring at whatever was obstructing his path. "Of all the times for me to be blocked off from finding that door on the other..." He trailed off, realization coming a little too late for his pride. "Oh." Pippin fumbled about for a doorknob, and then grasped a cool, steel ball. Turning it, he slowly pushed it open.  
  
The door swung open smoothly and slowly, a faint light showing. Pippin entered the room it led to, all feelings of apprehension banished long ago. He was greeted by the quiet sounds of a fire crackling merrily and hushed talking. It was dim in the room, but what Pippin could see enthralled him. Towering bookcases surrounded him on all sides, books spilling off and overlapping each other. The room seemed to be small, but it stretched far up towards the sky. Old, creaking wooden ladders that were more like pillars leaned against the shelves. On the walls there were tall, clear windows that reached the ceiling. Ornate metal curled and looped up through the windows, outlined by a starry background. Pippin walked over to the closest window and stuck his head out. A chilly wind wafted through the air over the tops of spruce trees that seemed to be miles downwards. Mountains rose close to the room, neighboring the wizard' s home. The moon was out, full and bright, and stars were glinting high in the sky. A strange, ghostly melody whispered with the wind, but it was not at all unpleasant. Pippin sighed to himself, and then brought his head back into the room.  
  
"Pippin!" a voice hissed. "Where have you been?"  
  
"Merry!" Pippin exclaimed. He ran over to his cousin, who was not too far from the fire that he had heard. It was practically next to the window that Pippin had been looking out of. "How did I miss you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I had just come through the door..." he trailed off, seeing the door farther away than he had thought. "Now how...?"  
  
"This room can work in mysterious ways," a strange voice commented. "It likes to bring you what you're looking for."  
  
Pippin turned and found himself staring up at another wizard. So this must be Oleron, he thought. The wizard had on a dark blue cloak and a staff made of dark mahogany intertwined with pale ivory. He smiled down at the somewhat bewildered hobbit.  
  
"Welcome to my humble home," Oleron said, bowing to Pippin. "I hope you didn't find it too much trouble to reach?" He winked at him, dark blue eyes twinkling.  
  
"No sir!" Pippin heard himself answering. "It was just enough trouble and a wonderful time at that."  
  
"Superb!" Oleron cried. "And now that we have dispensed of the pleasantries, come and join your friends before my fire, Master Took."  
  
Pippin followed as Merry led him to an old, massively cushioned couch. Frodo and Sam were already sitting down, both with drinks in their hands and both looking dwarfed by the couch. The others were seated in the same fashion, all weary but glad to be at rest. Pippin jumped on the couch, sighing as he relished the softness that he hadn't felt since Rivendell.  
  
"Now that we are all accounted for," Oleron said, "you may continue with your story, Gandalf."  
  
Gandalf began to tell Oleron the story of their travels and the Ring. At the mention of Dragas and his goblins and the baelshre, Oleron frowned but said nothing. When Gandalf finished, Oleron sighed deeply and stood, walking slowly to the window. Silence filled the room.  
  
"Times are falling," Oleron whispered. "But we shall not fall with them." He turned back to Gandalf. "I will counsel you in these matters and I will help with all my power."  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Alright, it was very, very, very short. But I'm out of ideas and a person has been asking for more and I've been mean and not given them anything. So this is it for now. I'm clean out. But.I'm sensing a second wind.. 


	8. The Dream

Author's note: I own nothing. You will probably find that the story's content will decline ever so rapidly along the way. I do this because I have no idea where I was going with it when I wrote the story, so....let us just say I got desperate.  
  
Chapter 7: The Dream  
  
There was fog. The whispering wind hissed through the trees, making leaves flutter wildly to the ground in sudden bursts. The sky was dark, pitch black above the canopy of grey-green trees. A tiny sliver of moon shone weakly out from the heavens, its light blocked by the fog. A feel of dreadful foreshadowing fell over the forest like a cold blanket.  
  
Frodo could feel spine-chilling cold, but it seemed distant, its groping fingers unable to reach him. The wind circled round him, pulling him irresistibly farther into the dreary fog. Something was calling him, a small voice that got stronger with each step the hobbit took. Frodo ducked between looming trees and flitted like an unseen shadow, though he didn't know what he was hiding from.  
  
"Come to me...come to me...."  
  
The wind pushed Frodo insistently forward, almost urgently. He stumbled over a crooked root, catching himself roughly on the ground.  
  
"Quickly, before you are lost..."  
  
An unnatural calm fell over the misty world. Frodo looked up from the ground, blinking rapidly. Before him stood two trees old and crooked from their years of standing against the wind. They stood barely six feet above the black dirt, but commanded respect with their presence. A barely used path carved its way between the old trees, uncertainly fading into the distance. Frodo could see nothing beyond the trees except darkness. He felt quiet but powerful words beckoning him, calling him to the path. He found himself standing and at the gates before he realized what he was doing.  
  
"Come to me..."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Oleron walked away from the fire quietly, seeing that almost all of the Fellowship was sleeping peacefully. Passing between bookcases, he made his way toward a tall, thin, rather nondescript door that stood looming in the shadows. The rusty brass knob didn't creak as the wizard turned it, but soundlessly moved. The door slid open, letting a strange, shifting light pour out into the room. Oleron slipped into the next room and quietly shut the door behind him.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Sam opened his eyes, awakened by a strange dream he had been having. A feeling of urgency filled him and the silence in the room was disquieting.  
  
"Do you feel it too?"  
  
Sam turned suddenly and saw Frodo awake as well, leaning against the wall and staring out the window into the depths of the now-black sky. The stars had disappeared, leaving a faint moon to dimly light the night. A strange keening noise echoed from down below. The dark trees rustled and shuddered as a cold wind circled through the forest and up through the window. The fire shivered, the outside wind disturbing its dance.  
  
"I was having the most peculiar dream, Mr. Frodo," Sam said quietly as he walked towards the window, careful not to disturb the others. "There was wind and fog...."  
  
"And a path," Frodo whispered. "With two trees guarding the way."  
  
"It was cold," another voice added. Merry was sitting up on the couch as well. "And..."  
  
"There was a voice." Pippin joined Sam and Frodo by the window. "It was calling me."  
  
"I wonder what it means," Frodo said quietly.  
  
"Come to me..."  
  
A shaft of quivering light fell across the window. Sam turned and saw an open door at the end of a long tunnel of bookcases. Something was shining within the room it led to, something that seemed to dance and bob the longer he looked at it. Drawn against his will, Sam started to walk to the door. He was barely aware of Frodo, Merry, and Pippin with him. The light winked playfully at him, seeming to beckon the hobbits closer.  
  
Merry passed Sam as he walked faster. He reached out a hand toward the light. His hand hit the doorframe. Surprised, Merry looked away from the light. How had they reached the door so quickly?  
  
"Do we want to go in?" Pippin whispered. But his question didn't matter. Without hesitation, Frodo stepped in the door, his form blurring away as he walked further into the room. Sam followed him, with Merry close behind. Pippin stood staring for a moment into a room that seemed to have no dimension at all, hesitating. But then he remembered the last time he hesitated and hurried past the doorframe, disappearing without a sound.  
  
The door slammed shut.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
A winding staircase stood in the middle of an empty courtyard, reaching higher and higher into the sky with no end. The ground was a lush green, shaggy and soft with grass. The grass circled the staircase and reached out to the dull grey stones of the courtyard walls, stopping suddenly before it could actually touch the walls. The sun shone brightly in a bright blue sky that had wispy clouds floating. High up on the staircase, a dark speck appeared. The speck was winding down the staircase rapidly and as it neared the bottom, a voice could be heard mumbling.  
  
"Rimor does not like this, oh no, not like this at all. Strangers pass the doorways, reach Master's home. What do they bring with them, what do they bring to show thanks for Master's hospitality? Goblins! Goblins is no way to thank poor Blue Oleron. Now little hobbits are leaving, poor little hobbits."  
  
The dark shape, no longer a shape, paused for a moment on the stairs. Purple eyes flashed and squinted against the sun.  
  
"Must follow hobbits, says Master. Guide them along, says Master. Take them to the Tree Path, says Master. Well, if Rimor must he must. As long as filthy goblins don't follow our travels, mayhaps Blue Master's plans work. As long as filthy monster - " Silver teeth flashed in a hiss and long, nimble fingers wrung together. "As long as filthy monster stays away, does not disturb Rimor with its howls and slime and nasty, whipping tail, Rimor will most happily lead poor, silly hobbits far, far away."  
  
Rimor slid like a shadow off the towering staircase, green robes swishing against the grass as he slithered toward the courtyard walls. Glancing only for a moment at the sun as he paused at the wall, he brushed one grey finger against a stone. There was a groaning heave as a small, circular tunnel appeared at the base of the wall. Still muttering quietly to himself, Rimor crouched down and scurried into the tunnel.  
  
"Silly hobbits better get here quicklike. Rimor does not like to be kept waiting."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
*Wow! That wasn't ALL that bad, I think. Took forever to write, mwhahaha. Enjoy it while it lasts. Always love to hear input. At least I think I do.* 


	9. The End

And then they all died.

THE END

Author's note: hahahahaha, Arya, I finished it!!! Sorry to all those people out there who decided to like the story, but I just don't have the time or the passion to finish it. Create your own ending!!! Use that imagination!


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